


The Inferno

by JessicaPendragon



Series: Canon Keela Lavellan [41]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9859475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaPendragon/pseuds/JessicaPendragon
Summary: There is something divine in the curl of her smile, the kind that will pluck the wings from these insects, but he loves her no less for it, will follow her even if in the end he burns because of her too.





	

It’s pouring in Val Royeaux by the time they make their way to the last shop for the day. Rylen would rather they skip it altogether but Keela is adamant to procure the last thing on her list, some enchanted item imported from the Anderfels Master Pavus had mentioned in his last letter. The umbrella has done little to thwart the rain that blows sideways through the streets, especially as it tries to fly free from his grasp, and he finds himself half soaked when they finally reach the door.  

“All clear?” he asks the soldiers already poised at the entrance.

“Yes, ser,” one of them answers behind their helm, droplets of rain echoing off the metal, and he doesn’t envy their post. He’ll have to remember to see they are rewarded somehow for standing in this deluge without complaint. 

Even if the Inquisition scouts have already scoured the shop, Rylen still lets his gaze sweep over the cluttered space. Baskets full of trinkets hang from the ceiling, shelves lined with glowing potions and glistening runes, even a few enchanted armor sets at attention in one corner, but nothing seems out of the ordinary save for perhaps several large barrels placed around. There are plain and iron bound, a breath of normality strangely out of place here.

“Welcome, Inquisitor!” The owner emerges from behind his large counter and stops at a respectable distance to give a bow. “I am honored you have decided to grace my humble shop, especially under such dreadful conditions. I hope you have an evening of leisure ahead.”

“I was assured the journey would be worth it,” Keela says as Rylen helps her from her cloak. Magic tickles his fingers from the enchanted fabric and he does envy this, for there is not a scrap of cloth or lock of hair disturbed by the storm because of it. 

“Of course. I have what you desire right here.” The man returns to his station and motions them forward as he rifles through something out of sight.

“Where can I get one of these?” Rylen gestures to the material in hand and she smiles in a way that makes him think he won’t like the answer.

“Would you like one? I will see to your appointment with Dagna to take your measurements right away then.”

He lets out a groan. “Wonder if she’ll let me leave in tact this time.”

“Here we are!” A box is placed before them and Keela reaches for it, undoing the ties and lifting the lid to peer inside. While she busies herself with that inspection, Rylen picks up a necklace laying atop the polished wood. It has a sparkling, dark amber crystal caught in a metal cage and there is a pendant nearby in the shape of a phoenix with the same color gem at its breast. “Ah do you like, Messere? It is called _Lover’s Protection_. There is a mild restoration spell upon both, and the necklace can be used to scry for its counterpart.”

 _Lover’s Possession_ is more like it, but the uses…“What do you think, M’lady? Would make my job a wee bit easier trying to track you across damn near all of Thedas.”

She gives him a look before returning attention to the shopkeep. “This will do. The final price?”

“For you, Inquisitor, I would offer it at 1,950 silver.”

“That is acceptable,” Keela replies and hands over a thick coin purse that is taken with expressed gratitude. 

“Wonderful! And I do have something I’d like to throw in as a thank you, something special. It’s just come from Nevarra and I thought of you right away. Give me a moment to retrieve it.”

“Not even going to haggle?” Rylen asks as the other man moves towards the rear door.

“The Inquisition can cover its cost a thousand times fold.”

“Not the point, lass. Don’t you-” 

Many things seem to happen at once. The owner slams the door behind him as he exits, locks tumbling fast into place, and Rylen sees a glimpse of an Inquisition soldier at the entrance with a triumphant smirk before that door is bolted shut as well. The barrels around the room spark with powder burning fast, and he only has time to reach for her, knowing this will be the end, and puts as many unspoken things into his embrace as he can. “Keela.”

He hears the explosion, feels the heat and pressure of it for a moment before there is nothing but silence and darkness. Death seems quicker and easier than he would have thought, no different than living save for the stillness, a thing he slowly realizes is not as void as he once believed. When he looks, for he is very much still alive and breathing, there is a firestorm around him, flames licking and gnawing at a thick barrier swirling with colors. He crouches at the ground with Keela clutching onto his jacket while the anchor hand burns a brilliant green, crackling with a power he sees churning around the blacks of her eyes. 

“Keela? How-?” He’s not seen a barrier of this type before. It doesn’t react the same to the lyrium in his veins, like it isn’t born from the Fade but the Fade itself. After a second he finds he doesn’t care about it all as relief floods through him, makes him grasp her cheek for reassurance. They are truly alive, at least for now. 

“Keela,” he says again, wants to repeat it over and over like a benediction, like it is the only word he knows or the only one that matters. The severe concentration on her face eases for a moment as she returns the gesture.

“Come.” She stands and drags him with her. “I cannot make it last forever.”

They walk through fire and ruin, potions that pop and bleed into the scarlet flames, wood charred and blackened and someone’s whole livelihood destroyed to seem them dead - to see _her_  gone. When they emerge back into the world where rain rushes down against the barrier instead, it is easy to find those responsible in the crowd growing around the shop. Fools, standing tall and proud in front of their crowning achievement, wearing the twisted armor of the Red Sons while one gloats in Inquisition colors. The other soldier he placed at the door lays on the ground, a puddle of red spreading out and flowing with the rain beneath them. 

Anger breaks over him, boiling as the assassins take notice of them and become alarmed, amazed, but it is Keela that reacts first. His stomach drops as she pulls power around herself and unleashes it, pinning them under a force that cracks stone and bone. Rain evaporates before it reaches skin, steam roiling around her, as she approaches with slow purpose, more danger pouring from every inch of her than a cavalry of a hundred men. She is something terrifying with the mark screaming and rage turning her face fearsome, and for all the stories of heralds and gods and titans walking the earth, he believes them all true in this moment.

Rylen goes after the few who have managed to survive her initial bombardment and find their feet, sword and shield singing sharp and strong. They are all disoriented and easily fall again and he wishes there was more of a fight in them to quell this desire for blood inside him. He is not one for vengeance or even violence despite his numerous positions, but they have dared for too long to haunt her, to have her looking over shoulders and into shadows, and she is much more than a mark to him. Whatever it takes, he will see this done.

“Please! I…I-” 

Rylen looks up from his own work to find the Inquisition traitor trying to scoot away as the Inquisitor stalks closer, one leg broken and blood darkening their stolen uniform. There is no smugness about them now, only desperate, ugly fear, but there is no mercy to be found here, no gentleness in the soft way Keela speaks now. 

“Fire? You thought to burn me from this world?” She places both her hands onto their helm. “I am the inferno.”

Hands turn white hot and the man cries out as his armor begins to become red, as flesh catches fire and eyes pop and melt and the smell of burning flesh fills the air. A gruesome death that she prolongs as long as possible until her enemy is as charred and smoking as the building behind her. Speechless horror has washed over the spectators at the sight, as the Inquisitor rises and stands in a storm with only blood and scorch marks upon her, otherworldly with the glow of the anchor and the cold wrath in her gaze.

He feels it too, sickened by it all, but he remembers what she is like when the stains are stripped away, when the mantel of her station is removed and there is a fleeting heart beneath that shivers against touch and clings to it at the same time. Keela takes a deep breath and he hears a tremble in it, sees a slash of panic in the way she quickly clenches her Fade-touched fist, but she will not bow or bend while there are so many to see. 

Rylen sags a little bit as she approaches and the adrenaline wears away to remind him of every ache in his aging body, but he would do it all again to protect her, to be at her side no matter the cost. She nods behind him with a frown at the last Red Son escaping through the crowd. “You let one go.”

“No.” Rylen opens his palm to reveal the _Lover’s Protection_  necklace there, the other half he shoved into a pocket while they were all conveniently being distracted by Keela’s justice. “What do you say we find the nest, Inquisitor?”

There is something divine in the curl of her smile, the kind that will pluck the wings from these insects, but he loves her no less for it, will follow her even if in the end he burns because of her too. “Yes, let us finish this.”


End file.
